


Co-Parenting for Dummies

by a_taller_tale



Series: Five Reds and a Baby [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Grimmons, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_taller_tale/pseuds/a_taller_tale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons are raising a baby. The rest of Red Team has opted out. Unless they have a witty remark or some judgement to render. But Simmons has already read all the books, thankyouverymuch. Now if Grif could just get him to calm down...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Co-Parenting for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

> This was written first in the series, but chronologically takes place some time after Five Reds and a Baby.

“Stop joking, Grif. I think something’s actually wrong with him.” 

“He’s fine, Simmons. He’s just lazy.” Grif observed his blobby son where the baby had just face planted into the play mat, inert except for the slight rise and fall of his back. Well, he was breathing. He was fine. 

“They’re not supposed to just give up during tummy time! It’s a very important developmental task!” Simmons sounded like he might be about to have an anxiety attack so Grif nudged the baby slightly with his foot while Simmons frantically flipped through his stack of ‘how to deal with babies’ books. The kid squeaked unhappily, but stubbornly kept sleeping.

-

They had actually had the ‘my future kid’ conversation back in Blood Gulch before they’d been anything more than fellow soldiers trying to stave off brain melting boredom and desert insanity. Something Sarge had already succumb to at least a decade ago. 

Sitting with their helmets off in the shade in the warthog, Grif pushed back his sweaty hair out of his face and fantasized that a breeze would be coming by any minute now. Simmons was rambling on about something.

“…And I would completely support my son or daughter even if they didn’t want to join any athletics teams and uphold the family tradition. The new family tradition could be like, board game nights!” 

“Who plays board games anymore? Dork.” 

Simmons flicked him in the forehead. “Okay, assface. What will your kid be like?” 

Grif had sort of assumed he would have a family, even after he had been fucking drafted and he and his sister hadn’t had a normal family life growing up anyway. It was just the sort of thing you thought would happen, like on old earth sitcoms. 

He never thought of who he would end up with. Just some shadowy person who would feed him and think he was funny. Someone who paid attention, like he was important to them, but who didn’t always take his shit either. It was a delicate balance. 

Kids? Maybe one. He could teach them the right way to eat Oreos and the best old sci-fi shows. None of that new reality military propaganda stuff. “I don’t care what they’re into as long as they’re cool. And they don’t eat their Oreos like a dork.” 

-

Grif’s kid had a long struggle ahead of him to stay cool with Simmons as his other dad. 

Simmons was coming down the stairs with a chubby baby contentedly making noises against his shoulder. Looked like the kid would be getting another tooth soon if the wet patch sticking to Simmons’ flesh arm meant anything. 

The kid was always leaking from somewhere. Gross. 

That was when Grif spotted the monstrosity in the form of the nerdiest onesie ever.

“What the hell? _Future Mathlete_ , Simmons? The other babies are gonna beat him up!”

“What other babies? We live in a box-canyon!”

Yeah, Grif hadn’t really seen that one coming when he imagined his future either.


End file.
